


Night Terrors

by FirebirdScratches



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirebirdScratches/pseuds/FirebirdScratches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Howling Commandos can't get a decent night's sleep, as Bucky's violent night terrors keep waking the whole camp. Steve comforts his best friend, with Peggy's help - and a best friend becomes something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrostyEmma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyEmma/gifts).



> Wrote this for my best friend (and a truly awesome beta) Frostyemma. I hope you enjoy!

**Some fucking French city, 1944**

“Nn…n-no, _ NO! _ Can’t…I ca….don’t - please,  _ don’t!” _

_ “Mmmnmph,”  _ Dugan groaned, rolling over on the bottom bunk. “Here we go again.” 

“Hey, lay off,” Gabe groused. “The poor guy’s been through hell.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we all have,” Morita returned in an irritated hiss, “but this is the third night in a row. This shit needs to stop.” 

“Language,” Steve murmured quietly, staring up at the sloped ceiling of the tent.

“Suck it, Rogers,” Dugan returned, good-naturedly. He sat up in bed and reaching up, gave Bucky’s leg a gentle slap, where it dangled off the top bunk. “Hey. Hey, Buck. Kid!” 

A strangled cry of pain slipped out of Bucky’s mouth.  _ “N  _ \-  _ no. _ I don’t know. I  _ told _ you,  _ I don’t know!” _ He thrashed harder in bed, his leg slipping further off the side. 

“Shit,” Dugan cussed again. “He’s gonna - “

But even as Bucky began to slide off the bed, Steve was already standing there, his arms slipping around the tense, sweat-drenched frame. So strange - Bucky used to be so much bigger than he was…now carrying him felt almost like carrying nothing. 

“Buck,” Steve murmured gently. “Hey, Buck. Come on. Wake up.” 

“Nn - nnno,” he groaned, shaking his head fitfully. _ “NO, IT HURTS!”  _ Finally, his eyes snapped open, his fingers clawing desperately at Steve’s shirt. 

“Shh! Shh, hey!  _ Hey!” _ Steve said, his heart twisting uncomfortably at the wild, fearful look in Bucky’s sunken eyes. “It’s me. Buck. It’s me, it’s Steve. You’re safe. You’re not there anymore. We got you. We got you out.” 

Bucky’s pale blue eyes, glossy with fear and confusion, twitched anxiously between his own. “Steve?” he finally whispered.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered back, swallowing the lump that threatened and forcing an awkward grin. “S’me, Buck.”

Bucky’s jaw worked as he grit his teeth and his eyes swam. “I keep forgettin’, yuh…y’look…diff’rent now.” 

Steve could feel the rigidity in his frame, knew Bucky was holding his breath because he refused to cry in front of everyone else. 

“Just me, Bucky,” Steve gritted, with a determined grin.

“Yeah,” Dugan muttered. “Popeye’s been eatin’ his spinach, that’s all.” A few of the others chuckled quietly.

“These ladies need their beauty rest, Buck,” Steve smiled crookedly. “‘Specially Dum Dum, face like that. Poor soul.”  

Steve could hear the others whispering quietly to one another in the background.

“Three fucking nights of this,” Gabe murmured.

“Cut ‘im a break,” Morita griped under his breath. “It’s not like he can plan to go Looney Tunes during business hours.”

“I know, I know,” Gabe whispered wearily, his expression one of sympathy and utter exhaustion. “I’m just _ tired.”  _

“Put me down,” Bucky said, suddenly struggling in Steve’s arms. Steve realized with a sinking feeling that if he heard them, Bucky probably could too. “Enough, already, I got legs.” 

“Sure,” Steve said, setting him down, and taking a step back. Truth be told, he barely noticed he was still carrying him. His arms ached at the loss of contact. 

“Cap. These men need their shut eye,” Dum Dum murmured, shaking his head gently. “We don’t need the Krauts to catch us yawning.” 

“What do you suggest, Dum Dum?” Steve hissed, trying to keep the heat out of his voice, and tempted to throw his arm over Bucky’s shoulders again. Bucky just stood there scowling in his boxers and standard-issue undershirt, looking exactly like the scared kid he was. 

Steve wondered: is that how Bucky used to see him? Was it the same impulse that made him want to pull him close and punch him in the arm at the same time, the urge to protect mingling with some unspoken unease that sent shudders down his neck and made his tongue feel thick in his mouth?

“You gotta take him somewhere else,” Dum Dum said. “Anywhere. Take a pup tent or something. At least for one night.” 

Steve looked out at the mosquito netting zipped shut over the tent flap, an idea beginning to form. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay. C’mon, Buck.” 

—

Steve couldn’t really knock on a tent flap, and even if he could, he didn’t want to wake her so abruptly. Checking quickly to see that she was decent, he waved Bucky inside after him. 

“Peg,” he whispered. “Peggy.”

“Steve,” she replied, her voice sounding as if they were already having a conversation. She sat up in bed, looking like a million bucks, even with the rags in her hair. If she was surprised to see Bucky standing there with him, she didn’t show it. “What is it?”

Peggy never needed to ‘wake up,’ - she had two modes: alert, and asleep. Her keen, incisive gaze raked over Bucky, who stood with his hands folded under his armpits, in his boxers. 

“Ma’am,” he muttered, humiliation stamped on his features. A five-o-clock shadow was sprouting on his chin. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his black hair was askew and greasy with the sweat of his night terrors. 

Steve turned from his perusal of Bucky’s face and met Peggy’s eyes pleadingly. 

Without another word she scooted over to the edge of her bed, and flung the covers back. 

Being the only female soldier present at Camp Delta, Peggy was the only member of the SSR (with the exception of Colonel Phillips), who enjoyed a private tent. Since there was no one to take top or bottom bunk with her, she had un-bolted the frames and laid the mattresses side-to-side on some shipping crates, creating a rather comfortable little nest for herself - and for Steve, on certain nights when neither of them would be missed. 

Steve was pretty sure the entire camp had sussed them out by now, but nobody was complaining - certainly not her. Least of all, him. 

“Okay, come on, Buck. Bedtime.” Steve gently shoved Bucky forwards, who awkwardly dug in his heels. 

“N - no, this - it ain’t right,” Bucky protested. “Ma’am, I apologize for my friend, he - ”

“Barnes, stop dithering,” Peggy replied crisply, still holding the blanket up. “You’re letting all the heat escape.”

Bucky looked up at Steve, who nodded encouragingly.

“Consider it an order, if you must,” Peggy said, rolling her eyes. 

Finally, apologetically, Bucky toed his boots off…he had yanked them on without socks, not even bothering to tie the laces as they shuffled across the camp yard in the moonlight. With a sibilant whisper of linens he climbed in and lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, stiff as a board. 

Steve smiled, and leaning forward, clapped him on the shoulder. “Try to rest, Buck.” He turned and made for the tent flap. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Peggy called after him dryly.

Steve stopped, his blonde brows raising in surprise as he looked from Peggy’s hazel eyes back towards the place where his unit waited, and back to her again. “Well…w’ll I - ”

“I’m not going to engrave you an invitation,” Peggy said, beginning to pull the rags out of her hair and dropping them onto the floor next to the bed. She shook out her wavy, chestnut mane, and Steve felt a frisson of pleasant goosebumps raise on his forearms, as he recalled running his fingers through them. 

“Come on.” 

Steve froze on the spot, and almost against his will, locked eyes with Bucky. He felt torn between conflicting desires…on the one hand, Peggy obviously knew how he felt about Bucky…how he always had. And she had sworn up and down that she was fine with it, despite the heat of shame that threatened to color Steve’s cheeks even now. But…the idea of sleeping next to both of them, literally sharing a bed, however innocent the reason…

Bucky’s eyes darted down uncomfortably and Steve wondered, not for the first time, if Bucky felt the same uncomfortable push-pull, like an ocean tide, drawing them towards doom, however hard they swam for shore. 

“Alright, then,” Steve finally said simply, and unbuckled his belt. 

He wasn’t afraid of Nazis, he wasn’t afraid of Japs, and he certainly wasn’t going to be afraid of his two best friends. 

He toed out of his boots, letting them clomp to the floor next to Buck’s, shucked off his trousers, and folded them neatly, placing them on the cloth folding chair in the corner of the tent. 

The bed creaked slightly as he climbed in. For a moment, he tried not to make any contact with Bucky, and his friend wiggled over uncomfortably, until he realized this only put him closer to to Peggy, which was arguably more inappropriate. To make matters worse, Steve found himself with a sudden and very urgent need to think about baseball. 

_ 1935, Reds and Phillies at Crosley field, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, Lombardi takes the plate… _

“Try to relax,” Peggy said kindly. 

Distracted again, Steve glanced down and felt a keen lance of pain go through his chest at the look on Bucky’s face. He was staring determinedly at the ceiling, his eyes glittering with unshed tears of shame, struggling to control his breathing. 

“Hey,” Steve murmured worriedly. “Hey, Buck…it’s alright.” 

Instantly abandoning all awkwardness and pretense to his concern, he scooted closer, his body pressing reassuringly against Bucky’s as he pulled the blankets up over them and put a hand on Bucky’s chest. 

“Hey. Remember when I used to get those asthma attacks? Right?” he said, as steadily and quietly as he could, “Just like that. Come on.” 

Bucky sniffed audibly and ground his teeth, tears leaking down the sides of his face, disappearing into the stiff white linens. 

“In and out. Like this.” Steve took a big breath in through his nose, his newly-massive chest pressing more firmly against Bucky’s ribs as he inhaled. He held it for a minute, then released. “Now you try.” 

Bucky gave a jerky nod, and together, they took another deep breath, Bucky’s catching in his chest a few times, then rattling out. He licked his lips nervously and nodded again, still not wanting to meet Steve’s eyes. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Peggy said, and to Steve’s surprise, she turned towards Bucky, and lay her head down on the pillow near his, so their faces were just inches apart. Bucky seemed a bit startled too, and he jerked his head an inch or so away.

“Exactly,” Steve nodded firmly, instantly agreeing. “It’s just  _ stress _ , Buck. Just a little shell shock. Happens to a lotta guys that’ve been in captivity. It just takes a while to - ”

“That’s not what I meant,” Peggy said quietly. 

Steve’s mouth formed a perfect “O” of shock as his girl leaned in and kissed his best friend gently, right on the corner of his mouth. 

She stared into Bucky’s eyes, her smooth, creamy skin cool blue in the moonlight that filtered through the mosquito netting, face as impassive and enigmatic as a Sphinx. 

Suddenly realizing what had just happened, Bucky’s eyes darted guiltily to Steve’s, and Steve was arrested by another set of eyes, these pale blue and haunted, and he was instantly reminded of hot summer days at Coney island, of kick the can in stinking alleys, wheezing and trying to catch his breath, always trying to keep up, always just out of arm’s reach…of sitting on the stoop passing one shave-ice back and forth, licking sticky syrup off their hands, feeling oddly proud to be swapping germs, and wishing the summer never had to end…

“Buck…” 

And before he understood what he was doing, before he could think about it too much and talk himself out of it like always, Steve lowered his head, and pressed his lips tenderly to his. 

_ Buck. _

_ Bucky, from down the block.  _

With a delirious flood of memory, his brain drowsily registered the flavor of salt water taffy…until he realized it was actually just chapstick and tears. It was a chaste kiss…but it smoldered with the heat of a thousand promises deferred, a thousand chances just missed, and it lasted just long enough and ended just slowly enough to be unequivocal - not a drunken mistake, or a hasty apology - fierce and firm and brutally honest. And when their lips finally parted, Steve opened his blue eyes in wonder and found a lover staring back at him where once there had only been a friend. 

“There you are,” Peggy murmured quietly. 

The silk of her night gown rustled against the starched army issue bed linens and she slunk down Bucky’s body, and wrapped a slim arm around his waist, nuzzling his ear. Bucky’s hungry eyes looked frantically toward Steve’s for - what? Permission? Explanation? Rescue?

“You’re safe here,” Peggy murmured gently into his neck, leaving a soft kiss there. “It’s safe here.” 

Steve was startled as Bucky wrapped his hand around Steve’s neck and with the urgency of a drowning man, pulled his mouth back to his with a crash, his tongue swiping greedily over his lips until Steve let out a low groan and began kissing him back in earnest, grinding his hips into him in helpless need. 

Just as suddenly, Bucky threw his head back into the pillow, their lips parting with a soft “smek.” “Fuuuuck,” he hissed. 

Steve glanced down to see Peggy’s hand rustling under the sheets. He was filled with a weird mix of jealousy, lust, and longing, but as he looked back at Bucky’s face, his eyes squeezed shut, teeth worrying his lower lip, he also felt a leap of illicit joy in his gut. He could just imagine Peggy’s hand grasping the length of Bucky’s shaft, slim fingers stroking just so, teasing and coaxing him…

Peggy disappeared from sight under the covers, and a moment later, Bucky’s eyes flew open and he reached out wildly, half sitting up - 

“Hey,” Steve whispered again, catching him by the wrist and gently pressing him back down. “It’s okay.” 

Bucky groaned, “God, I - ”

_ To hell with it. _

Steve lowered his lips again, stopping Bucky’s mouth, his tongue sliding over his insistently. He broke away and kissed Bucky’s chin, his jaw, his temple, grinding his throbbing, needy hardon into his hip. 

“It’s alright,” he insisted, trying to convince himself just as much, speaking with whole-sale invented confidence. “It’s alright, Buck. Just relax.” 

There was a subtle gasp, and Peggy reemerged, her cheeks flushed, and began climbing up Bucky’s body. Unable to resist her looking like this, Steve wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. With a thrill, he realized he could taste Bucky’s salt on her tongue.

Bucky let out a little groan of need, and Steve was startled as Peggy put a firm hand on his shoulder and gave him a little downward shove. 

“Your turn,” she panted. Without elaborating, she turned her face towards Bucky and kissed him passionately, Bucky’s hand tentatively reaching up to ghost trembling fingers over her soft brown hair.

Heart thudding in his chest, Steve gulped and scooted down the bed, pulling the covers over his head. 

It was somehow easier - when everything was warm and dark, and there was only the delicious, dizzying scent of sex to guide him. Above, he could hear Bucky’s panting growing louder, and under it, the steady, velvet current of Peggy’s voice, soothing and kind, murmuring reassurances. Drawing near, Bucky’s shaft, still slick with Peggy’s spit and searing hot, brushed his cheek and a shudder of anticipation went down Steve’s spine. 

_ Well. Now or never.  _

He wrapped a hand firmly around his length and began to stroke firmly but slowly, the way he preferred on himself. Above him, Bucky let out a strangled sob, which was abruptly muted, mostly likely by Peggy’s mouth. Steve rubbed his thumb in a small circle at the “V” under Bucky’s head and was rewarded with a slick bead of pre-cum, leaving a satin-y trail under his touch. He felt Peggy’s slim fingers winding through his hair, and, taking courage, he leaned forward and gently touched his tongue to it. 

He had no idea what he was doing, but Bucky nearly hit the ceiling at that first timid contact, and Steve hastily rearranged himself so he was draped over Bucky’s leg, to avoid being kneed in the jaw. Emboldened by the hungry, pleading noises Bucky was making, he slid the flat of his tongue over the swollen head, prepared to hate the taste, but finding it actually pretty nice. Salty, but nice. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply through his nose, he closed his mouth around Bucky, and began to slide his length an inch or two in and out of his mouth, tenuously exploring shape and texture with his tongue. 

“Aahh - fuck, Steve!” 

Hearing his name pass through Bucky’s lips did things to Steve he didn’t expect. Suddenly on fire with need, he sank deeper onto his shaft, his tongue sliding along the veiny underside, hungry for - 

Whoops. He gagged momentarily and back off, coughing. A little too enthusiastic, maybe. He worried for a moment that maybe he was doing it wrong, that Bucky might be annoyed - but he certainly wasn’t voicing any objections. Maybe it was the kind of thing you had to practice? The thought of doing this on a routine basis sent a nervous and eager little flutter through his stomach. 

He took him into his mouth again, and went back to concentrating mostly on his head, alternating between swirling his tongue, sucking, and sliding up and down .

Soon, Peggy’s slim fingers were pulling him up, though, reaching under his chin and gently, insistently guiding him. Reluctantly, he let Bucky slide from his mouth, and began crawling back up his body, emerging from the blanket to see - 

His breath caught in his throat. 

Jesus God, he didn’t know how anything so beautiful could be a sin.

Bucky’s eyes were glassy and glazed, his cheeks red, his swollen lips parted and panting. “Steve,” he whimpered. 

Steve draped his body over his best friend, now his lover, and kissed him greedily. 

It was different than kissing a girl…Kissing a girl was about finesse and patience, about respect, kindness, and worship. This? This was fireworks and need, demanding and slick and full of hot breath. 

Steve hissed as a hand closed around his length and began to pump insistently, and with a delirious shudder, realized he couldn’t tell whose it was, at first. But as Peggy’s hand closed around his wrist and guided his own hand to her sex, he realized it had to be Bucky.

Steve’s fingers glided along Peggy’s curls and found her soaking wet and primed. He groaned as Bucky’s attentions mirrored his own, and his finger curled, slipped between and into her, gesturing a firm “come hither” inside of her. 

“Shhhit,” Bucky hissed, his body shaking like a leaf against Steve’s. “God… _ damnit.” _

“Wait for me,” Peggy panted breathlessly.

Steve withdrew his fingers, slick with her natural lubrication, and began painting it around her sensitive nub of flesh, biting hard on his own lip as he held off his own release. 

“Unh!” she panted, “Don’t stop!” 

Bucky’s hand stilled over Steve’s length, and he let out a strangled cry as his body jerked, Peggy’s touch bringing the first crash of his orgasm. Steve closed his mouth over his hurriedly, muffling his cries, his fingers still twitching rapidly against Peggy’s slippery heat until - 

Peggy gasped as she came, and Steve grinned, dropping his head to Bucky’s shoulder, that familiar sound sending pinpricks of pleasure up and down his neck. There was something thrilling, now, about sharing that sound with someone else. Rather than stop, he sped his fingers even more. 

“God, Steve!” she choked, struggling to control her voice. He only stilled his hand when she finally pushed it away, panting.

Steve hissed a sudden gasp through his teeth as Bucky’s hand began to move again, sliding firmly over his hard length. Glancing down at Bucky’s face, he was startled to see him staring back at him, unblinking and unafraid, the look of pale horror long-fled from his eyes, replaced only by love and trust and bare, requited lust that - 

“Buck,” Steve hissed urgently. “Bucky, I’m - ”

Bucky's free hand pulled him closer, brought his lips to his, and the touch of his tongue was what finally sent Steve crashing over the edge. He threw his head back, a strangled groan seeming to twist from his toes all the way up through his body, and somehow, Peggy’s mouth was closing over his now, greedily capturing the sounds he was making until, drained and shuddering with joy, they collapsed, one on either side of Bucky. 

For a moment nobody said anything. They simply panted together, waiting slowly for their breathing to return to normal. Steve opened one eye, the one not pressed against the pillow and stared for a moment at Bucky’s Adam’s apple. It bobbed as Bucky swallowed and took a fresh gasp of cold air. Gaze wandering over Bucky’s chest, Steve made eye contact with Peggy. She smiled knowingly and placed her hand on top of Bucky’s chest. Steve closed his hand over hers, and drew a deep breath in through his nose, savoring the scent of sweat, sex and aftershave, Peggy’s shampoo, and the faintest scent of bleach from the sheets. 

“Well that,” Bucky attempted, still struggling to catch his breath. “That...uh…was…something.” 

“Something…good?” Steve asked hesitantly. 

“I, uh…” Bucky looked down into Steve’s eyes, then over at Peggy’s. “I…yeah? I think?”

“Don’t over think it,” Peggy said, laying her head down and closing her eyes. 

Bucky looked back at Steve and Steve smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. 

“The guys,” Bucky said quietly, worry beginning to crease his smooth, beautiful brow now that the bliss was beginning to fade. “If they - ”

“Fuck ‘em,” Steve said quietly. 

“Language,” Peggy murmured drowsily against Bucky’s shoulder. 

Steve grinned up at Bucky until he gave him a begrudging smile in return. 

“Try to get some sleep,” Steve said softly, scooting up higher and getting the blankets settled around them again. 

A brief look of worry flashed over Bucky’s features and the corners of his mouth sagged again. His eyes began to have that distant look again, like he was looking past his current surroundings into memory. 

“Hey,” Steve said, quietly, “we’re right here, okay? We’re here, now.” 

Bucky’s dark eyes met his, and he nodded. “You’re gonna stay?” 

“I’m gonna stay.” 

“All night?” Bucky asked, cautiously settling down, causing Peggy to lift her head and gently pull her hair out from under his shoulder, making herself comfortable once again.

“To the end of the line,” Steve murmured, leaning forward to wrap a heavy arm over the two most important people in his world. 


End file.
